


those small steps

by evenafterallthistime



Category: Lost
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, F/M, Family, Hopeful Ending, Love, Pregnancy, Romance, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evenafterallthistime/pseuds/evenafterallthistime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She stared at his back, the breath held back in her throat, and she willed herself desperately to say something, anything (you saved me, so let me save you), and Jack’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he started walking. Then he was gone.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	those small steps

**Author's Note:**

> Addresses scenes only up to 5x10 "He's Our You".

Back on the island, everything, all the glances, the flirtations, the conversations, and the sly way their arms would brush against each other’s as they trekked into the jungle together, it was all done slowly, incessantly bothered by interruptions.

Back on the mainland, all of those things happened at a quicker pace, and there seemed to not be that many interruptions at all.

Because being back in civilization, being back in the real world, made them farther away from each other, and all they had to do was wait.

When they saw each other again they couldn’t bear to take it slow, because neither of them knew if they’d have the chance to see each other the next day, or the next week.

On the island, whether they’d have the chance to see each other was never really a question.

Their lives now were a lie so they clung to each other, the one thing that was real.

They lay together in bed, tangled around the sheets ( _Aaron slept peacefully in the room down the hall; he was always able to sleep through the night_ ), and Jack shifted and raised his head, kissing her softly, and she felt like this was exactly where she wanted to be.

Then a few weeks passed and he discovered the truth about the baby boy she was now a mother to and he couldn’t look at Aaron without pain surfacing in his eyes.

And the excuses started.

  
-

  
He didn’t like to keep her waiting, she knew this.

That was why, a week after her trial, he called her and told her that she was right, and of course he would see Aaron, and she clutched the phone to her ear, closing her eyes in relief as the sound of a fork scraping across a plate behind her ( _Aaron was eating spaghetti, which she knew inevitably meant a mess that she’d have to clean up_ ) broke the silence of the room.

He asked her out to dinner for the next evening and  _yes_  tumbled out of her mouth so quickly ( _she couldn’t say no, and she didn’t want to anymore_ ) that there was a brief silence on his end of the line and she knew he was smiling.

They went out on dates like they were high school sweethearts and she felt that it was probably best this way.

Taking it slow could be a good thing.

So they talked.

They got to know each other’s interests, their dislikes, their memories growing up; something they never really got the opportunity to do on the island ( _well, in her case, she hadn’t exactly been very willing, and she guessed it was just because old habits died hard_ ).

He walked her to her front door ( _the innocence of it made her want to laugh_ ) and she turned to him, her hands reaching up to grasp the collar of his dress shirt and pulling him down towards her to kiss him.

He kissed her back like he’d waited forever for it and when they finally broke apart, breathless, he said lowly against her hair, “What was that for?”

She smiled, sliding her hands to rest against the back of his neck and replied, “Do you even have to ask?”

He laughed, placing his hand against her back, pulling her even closer, and it felt like home.

  
-

  
A week later she gave him a key to her house and he looked at her like she’d just given him the key to her heart and in a way, she thought she did.

  
-

  
They became a family without even trying.

Aaron sat atop Jack’s shoulders as they walked towards the park and Aaron pointed ahead of him, shouting excitedly as he saw the swings.

Jack lifted Aaron off his shoulders swiftly and put him down and Aaron ran towards a swing as Jack followed.

She fished a camera out of her bag filled with snacks, drinks, toys, and whatever else she stuffed in there.

“Okay, smile,” She called out, and Jack crouched down behind Aaron as he fidgeted on the swing.

“Aww, mommy!” He whined, and Jack whispered something in his ear and Aaron giggled as Jack looked towards her and grinned.

She took the picture, emotion swelling in her chest, and she knew, more than anything, that this was one of the best days of her life.

On the way home in the car Jack’s hand covered hers as he glanced at her with a smile, and she could tell he felt the same way.

  
-

  
They got used to each other’s emotions, mannerisms, and moods, even when they didn’t say a word aloud ( _however, she could argue that she already got used to them after spending day after day with him on that island, and she felt he could say the same about her_ ).

She could tell just by the way his shoulders were set and how pensive his face was when he came home from work every night whether a patient of his had lived or died.

On the bad nights when he slipped into bed ( _she lay awake, waiting, because she wanted to, and it was easier to sleep when he was there anyway_ ), she reached out for him, pulling him to her, and he kissed her neck as his fingers tangled in her hair.

“Long day?” She asked quietly and he let out a sigh.

“Yeah.”

 

-

  
Jack took a sip of the wine at the table ( _Aaron was at a friend’s house for a sleepover_ ), staring off into space ( _he did that a lot these days_ ).

He relaxed more when Aaron wasn’t around.

She pretended not to notice.

She swallowed her own wine and smiled. “What are you thinking?”

He looked over at her quickly, a little startled at being caught so lost in his thoughts and smiled sheepishly at her. “Nothing. I’m just a little tired. You know how my caseload is.”

She got up and approached him, coming to stand behind him, and put her hands on his shoulders, massaging them.

He exhaled, leaning back against the chair, and after a moment he took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it.

She wondered when things got so quiet between them.

  
-

  
She held him tightly to her, the feel of the diamond ring heavy and perfect on her finger, and he moved his hand over her hair and let out a breath that seemed too tired for this kind of moment.

When she pulled away, smiling, he smiled back at her and gently brushed the tears off her face but his dark eyes conveyed a peculiar, almost far-away look ( _she had seen that look more often than ever now_ ), and she knew they weren’t really in the same place.

  
-

 

He never was much of a drinker.

He told her that himself.

So when he came home the first few nights with vodka, sometimes tequila, on his breath, she let it slide.

She understood that he had a stressful job; she couldn’t blame him for wanting to relax at a bar at the end of the day.

A lot of men did that and it didn’t mean that they were alcoholics.

Then he started bringing the alcohol in the house ( _there used to only be a six-pack of beer in the fridge that she had bought for him herself, at the beginning, but now there was so much more_ ).

And she wondered how long she could keep lying to herself.

  
-

  
_You’re not even related to him!_

The words still echoed in her ears hours after he had left.

She checked the alarm clock next to the bed.

1:08.

The numbers made her want to laugh but instead she just turned away, rubbing her eyes and sighing, staring up at the ceiling.

She closed her eyes, trying to will herself to sleep.

The sound of footsteps approaching caught her attention and she wondered if Aaron had woken up again.

She opened her eyes and sat up. “Sweetie, what’s--”

But it wasn’t Aaron.

The night light from Aaron’s room illuminated the figure of Jack standing quietly in the doorway to the bedroom.

“Kate,” He breathed.

He approached her, and she knew, instantly, that he was drunk. When he was close enough, the smell of alcohol on his breath confirmed it.

“You’ve been drinking,” She said, and it pained her because she knew this was definitely not the first time.

“Yeah,” He answered, his voice soft with a hint of a slur. “I just… Kate, I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean it, what I said.”

But they both knew he did.

For a few seconds they were quiet, then he added, “Is Aaron okay?”

“Yeah,” She nodded. “He’s fine. I got him to sleep a couple of hours ago.”

Even though the room was too dark for her to see it, she could picture his mouth set in a grim line, his eyes crinkling in concern and regret.

“I’m sorry,” He said again, and there was something different in his voice this time, a sort of genuine resignation.

She couldn’t help but think about the last time he had spoken to her in this room so late at night. But that time he was asking her to marry him.

This time he was asking for her forgiveness.

He moved closer to her, standing directly in front of her, and she looked up at him as he reached out and cupped the side of her face.

She brought her hand to rest over his and sighed. “I know.”

 

-

 

He began to grow out the beard and with it emerged a different man.

He wasn’t just drinking; she discovered the pills in his pants pocket while doing the laundry ( _he must have forgotten them after a long day at work_ ) and she stared at it for many minutes before setting it on his dresser.

Later that night, she cried quietly in the shower.

She wrapped a towel around herself as she stepped out of the shower and he entered the bathroom, his eyes searching the sink for something.

She watched him for a moment, knowing exactly what he was looking for, and she didn’t really know how much more of this she could take.

“It’s on your dresser,” She said, turning her back on him to run a comb through her hair, and she could feel his eyes boring into her back.

Then he moved away, exiting the bathroom, and she felt hollow on the inside.

  
-

  
“What’s going on, Jack?” She asked, and he looked over at her, pulling off his tie.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” She responded firmly, her eyes locking with his.

He took a breath, his discomfort clear. “Kate--”

“No, Jack,” She interrupted, her voice rising ( _Aaron wasn’t in the house today; the nanny had taken him out, at her request_ ), “ I’ve kept my mouth shut for too long, and I’m not going to do it anymore.”

He simply stared at her, stock-still, and she felt her anger dissolve ( _his eyes were so empty_ ) and she moved around the bed towards him.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” She asked quietly, and he turned away, his shoulders tensing ( _everything about him was tense now, like something just waiting to snap_ ).

Her fingers wrapped around his hand and she couldn’t keep the pleading out of her voice. “Let me help you, Jack.”

He looked back at her, his face so tight, and he took her in his arms and she leaned her head against his chest.

She knew then that he was already too far gone.

  
-

  
She lay resolutely on her side of the bed, staring out into the hall at the faint light that seeped out of Aaron’s room.

She felt him shift beside her and his fingers pushed away her hair, his lips warm against the back of her neck.

He pulled away after a moment and she rolled over on her back and grasped at him, pulling him towards her a little more roughly than she intended but as he unbuttoned her shirt ( _wearing his dress shirts, especially now, made her feel closer to him_ ) she knew he understood.

Afterward, when their breathing slowed, he drifted off to sleep, his arm slung across her stomach and the tears streamed from her eyes and into her hair because, somehow, she knew this was the last time.

  
-

  
Four months was how long it took for their relationship to deteriorate.

She sat on the bed, her elbows on her knees as she supported her head with her hands, and he moved slowly around the room, his anguish matching hers.

He made the decision ( _because he saw her pain and knew she couldn’t_ ).

The minutes passed unbearably slow and finally, at the doorway, he stopped, the suitcase hanging loosely at his side.

She stared at his back, the breath held back in her throat, and she willed herself desperately to say something, anything ( _you saved me, so let me save you_ ), and Jack’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he started walking.

Then he was gone.

She buried her face in her hands as she sobbed silently ( _she hadn’t cried like this in forever_ ) and didn’t even notice the padding of small feet across the carpet.

“Mommy?” Aaron asked, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Where did Jack go?”

She wiped away the tears hastily, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“Why are you crying, mommy?”

She looked at Aaron and he looked back at her, his blue eyes fearful and confused, his light eyebrows tightly knit ( _he never reminded her so much of Jack as he did at this moment_ ) and she enveloped the boy ( _her son_ ) in her arms.

  
-

 

Three weeks later, she took the ring off.

  
-

  
He called her ( _again_ ) and she finally gave in ( _it was only a matter of time before she did anyway_ ).

She met up with him after countless nights without him and time seemed to stand still as they looked at each other.

He was a complete shell of who he once was.

She let him say what he wanted to say and before she even knew what she was doing she retaliated, yelled at him as he cowered, broken, before her, and she hated it ( _she hated all of this_ ).

So she became the one who turned and walked away this time, and each step she took was harder than the one before.

_I’m sick of lying!_

She thought of the boy who waited at home ( _where is Jack?; he’s away, he’s busy, sweetpea_ ) and she knew the feeling was mutual.

  
-

  
When he kissed her, for a split second she expected the taste of alcohol on him, but it wasn’t there.

Cradled between her hips, his breath was warm against her shoulder as he murmured sleepily, “I love you.”

Her eyes stung with tears, the sound of his heartbeat resounding in her ear, and she was grateful the room was so dark.

  
-

  
“How many months?”

She looked up at Juliet, stripping off her stained gloves. “What?”

Juliet’s eyes calculated her. “How many months pregnant are you?”

She stilled, her hand instinctively going to the bump of her stomach that she kept hidden under layers of clothing.

“Don’t worry,” Juliet smiled, pulling off her own gloves as well. “I won’t tell anyone.”

She let out a breath, relieved, and reached for her water bottle. “Three months.”

“You haven’t told him, have you?” Juliet inquired, reading her thoughts.

She swallowed the water, brushing a stray curl away from her face. “No. It’s just…”

“What?”

She sighed. “The timing has to be right.”

She watched as Juliet smiled to herself, reminiscing on something she didn’t know.

“You will have to tell him soon, though,” Juliet advised, leaning against the hood of the van. “It won’t be long before he notices.”

She nodded, resting a hand against her stomach. “I know. I just don’t know how he’ll feel about it, if he’ll be unhappy.”

“It’s Jack,” Juliet said, arching an eyebrow in amusement. “I think unhappy is the last thing he’d be.”

She smiled and knew that Juliet was right.

  
-

  
On the way to lunch, she watched as Jack approached her from a considerable distance, his face lighting up at the sight of her ( _he’d looked at her like that for years and she couldn’t help but hope that he would never stop_ ), his lips forming a warm smile, and she took that step forward and it suddenly wasn’t as hard anymore.


End file.
